This Night Could Be The Reason
by Heilia
Summary: The war has ended, and everyone seems to have gone in their own directions. But what happens when Harry ends up in front of Draco Malfoy's door battered and bruised?


_A/N This is a first for me, I have never posted a story before but this is a year or new things for me. I own none of the characters in the Harry Potter world but all mistakes in this story are mine. Before you begin this story please note that it was not written to be a romance, so if you're here for a romance story I am sorry to disappoint. This story was actually inspired by a question I had while watching the final movie with a friend. The question was "Why do you see Draco and Harry nod to each other on the platform while their kids are boarding the train?" and thus, this story was born. Please read and review it would really make my day!_

After the second wizarding war everyone finally got the chance to breathe, well almost everyone. The war ended and the ministry immediately went in search of death eaters on the run and the ones in hiding. Draco and his parents were one of the first families to be caught, along with Pansy Parkinson. She was found hiding out with the Malfoys in an attempt to stay away from her own parents who would no doubtedly kill her themselves when they found out she refused to fight on either side. She didn't want to fight against her parents, but she did not want to be fighting amongst Voldemort. Since she didn't fight in the war and the ministry had nothing to really punish her for, they put her on magic patrol for a year. She couldn't travel outside of the country, her wand was replaced by a tracking wand so they could track every spell she did, and the ministry made sure to keep a very close eye on her. All three of the Malfoys were given trials, but none of them ended the same.

Lucius was first, and the quickest of the three trials. To many the trial was pointless, everyone knew where he was going. There was too much evidence against him for anyone in the ministry, or outside of the ministry, to even try to speak on his behalf. He went straight to Azkaban with a life sentence.

Narcissa's trial came a few weeks later, there wasn't nearly as much evidence against her as there was for her husband, but there was still enough that the ministry could use against her. To many it came as a surprise when Harry Potter made a surprise appearance to her trial speaking on her behalf. He explained how it was Narcissa who lied to Voldemort about him truly being dead giving him the opportunity to kill him in the end. He even went one step further and explained that everything she did was to protect her son, how this was extremely similar to the heroic story of his own mother. Lily gave her life for Harry, and Narcissa risked her own to get her son to safety. Her final sentence was 10 years in Azkaban. She was grateful for what she got, it could have been much worse.

Lastly was Draco's trial. Harry spoke on his behalf as well and Draco couldn't bring himself to even look at Harry throughout his whole statement. He told them about the snatchers finding Ron, Hermione, and himself in the woods, as well as the stinging jinx that made him unrecognizable to most and being brought to Malfoy Manor, then about Draco lying and saying he wasn't sure if it was harry or not, even though Draco knew it was. Harry also told them the real events that unfolded the night Albus Dumbldore was killed, how it wasn't Draco who killed him, it was Snape. He told them that he had witnessed Draco lowering his wand. However Draco's trial wasn't just open and shut, his took much longer than his parents, even with Harry defending him there was a lot for the ministry to consider with his trial. Many believed he was just following his father's orders. Afterall, he grew up watching his father's every move, everything he did he learned from his father. It was apparent that he did not willingly side with Voldemort, or if he once had he no longer did. The final ruling was very close, but in the end his sentence was a year of exile from the magical world. For one year he would live among muggles in the muggle world. This wasn't only his punishment but it was also his protection, there were a lot of people who wanted Draco and both his parents dead.

The ministry provided Draco with a fully furnished apartment, a tracking wand so that every spell he did could be tracked, and every month he would receive a sum of money to use for food and necessities. The ministry took care of his rent and bills seeing as though he couldn't work at the moment. To many of their surprise he didn't resent his sentence, he had given up on being resentful to everything that happened and everyone that came into his life. Towards the end of his sixth year his mindset and thoughts began to shift, but his loyalties were still with his family. When the war ended and Voldemort was finally defeated he realized he spent his whole life living through his father's prejudice. It was his father who hated muggles and muggleborns, who taught him pureblood were the best, and who thought Voldemort was the solution, it was all he knew, but in the last 4 years he watched the world around him as well as everything inside of himself crumble. People he had been taught to hate saved his life and offered him kindness even after everything that had happened and after everything he did to so many of them. He was through with living in hate the way his father had. He didn't care about blood status, he just wanted to have a life where he wasn't living in fear and envy of everything around him. Now he didn't have someone telling him what to do, what to enjoy, who to hate, who to love, or how to act. He was finally free to make his own choices, and have his own thoughts.

After his sentence he bid farewell to both his parents. First his father, he may have had his issues with the man, but he was still his father. Though in the end, his father always chose power over him. Then his mother, it broke his heart to say goodbye to her. To him she didn't deserve this, she sacrificed everything to protect him. She risked her life to get him out of the war alive, but to the ministry, none of that mattered. As their farewell ended they all three parted ways, his parents were escorted back to their cells, and he was escorted to the manor to retrieve any belongings he wanted to keep. Being back at the manor was strange. Before the war had ended the manor had always either been silent or filled with ear piercing screams. Now this was a different kind of quiet. Before the silence that filled the manor was suffocating, at times it made it difficult for Draco to breath. Now it was an empty quiet. The manor had never been this empty before, but even while he was a child. He could feel himself walking on the balls of his feet as quietly as possible. Every step he took echoed around him, and he could hear his shaky breath. So many memories of pain, destruction, and sorrow now plagued the place he used to call home. Everywhere he looked it's all he saw. Even his own bedroom was plagued of nights he spent in isolation, trapped in his own mind with no means of escape. Had he tried to leave he could have been killed, worse his family would have suffered for it, not to mention he had nowhere to go. He tried to ignore the thoughts that came to mind as he packed whatever belongs he wanted. He wandered the halls of the place that used to be his home one last time. He looked through his parents cracked door to see a perfectly made bed and a lack of their belongings. The dungeons were so quiet and empty he almost couldn't believe it. He thought of all the people who got trapped down here. He thought of Luna spending her 17th birthday in his family dungeon, he woke up that February morning and as he got closer to the dungeon he could hear the quiet singing of _happy birthday _coming from below the staircase. He sat at the top of the stairs and listened to his classmate try to bring some happiness to her dark prison cell. He remembered the heart wrenching screams coming from Ron Weasley as he was dragged down to that same prison and forced to leave Hermione with his aunt. The sob filled screams that came from Hermione as his aunt held her down and tortured her, the screams of pain as his aunt carved the word _'mudblood'_ into her arm.

The apartment they gave him wasn't big, but it was enough room for him and his belongings. There was one bedroom with a nightstand, a dresser, and a small closet, and a door that led to the bathroom, and another joint room that was set up with a desk and chair along with a set of bookshelves. There was a living room with a small couch that faced the window, and a cushioned chair that faced the couch, with a table next to the couch and a smaller one next to the chair. A set of bookshelves sat on the wall next to the door to the bedroom and the kitchen was adjacent to the wall with the bedroom. It had a marble bar table in the middle and two chairs, several cabinets in an off gray color, and a fridge and freezer that sat next to the small window. At the opposite end of the kitchen there was a door that led to a small hallway with a washer and dryer. There wasn't much to the apartment, but it was better than his isolated bedroom in the manor.

He spent several weeks rearranging the rooms and adding to them trying to make the small apartment his own. He added another set of shelves to the room meant to be an office, as well as a new lamp. He placed some small plants in the windows, he had never really noticed till then that he enjoyed having plants around. Some blinds and curtains went up on the windows. He wrestled with the idea of hanging a family photo from when he was younger, in the end he decided he didn't want that reminder. Now most of his days were filled with reading. He practiced magic the ministry had approved of him doing when they gave him his new wand. Truthfully the only magic he couldn't do was anything dark or _evil_ as the ministry put it. Most of the magic he did now was common house magic. He did keep up with reading and practicing just as he had done in his years at Hogwarts. He also learned to cook seeing as he was now living on his own, he found it enjoyable. He also continued his artwork, however that was harder for him to continue than he had originally thought it would be seeing as though it was what he had done to keep himself from focusing on Voldemort living with him. Finding the will to pick up charcoal and a sketchpad seemed impossible recently. So his sketchpad had taken up home on his desk collecting dust underneath some old book pages he had found in some old boxes.

Draco sat contently reading a book, the hours ticking away and the clock nearing 1 am when suddenly there was a knock on his door. It wasn't uncommon for him to get people asking for handouts but never this late. Still he got up and went to answer the door, but when he opened the door instead of finding someone looking for a handout he was instead met with Harry Potter; battered and bruised and barely standing, swaying side to side with one hand gripping the wall.

"Potter? What are you doing-"

Harry cut him off with the only words he could muster out of his mouth before collapsing in front of Draco.

"Nowhere...else..to..go."

Draco grabbed harry as best as he could still being rather weak from his previous years, but doing everything he could manage to get Harry to the couch. It became clear that Harry hadn't fully recovered physically from being on the run and in hiding for a year. He grabbed a book off the shelves near his bedroom door and flipped through the pages until finding a simple healing charm, you'd think with him being an ex-death eater he would have this spell memorized by now. Even though he was under close watch by the ministry and his address was confidential, they couldn't stop every witch or wizard from finding him on the streets and shooting curses and hexes at him every now and then, not to mention some people from the ministry turn a blind eye to the people shooting them at him. Draco moved quickly and tended to the more serious wounds first, the gash on his head, the split in his lip, the large cut in his shoulder. Next his thigh where the jeans had been torn by something sharp and caused yet another gash through his skin. Then he worked on cleaning up the cuts on his fists, with the shape Harry was in he would have hated to see what the other guy looked like. He was about to walk away when he noticed the blood soaking through Harry's shirt. He lifted Harry's shirt to reveal his torso was covered in cuts and gashes. With a sigh of aggravation Draco went to work on each one slowly closing the wounds and stopping the bleeding. After almost an hour of closing wounds, cleaning up blood, and wrapping wounds, Draco found himself exhausted, but didn't want to fall asleep in case Harry woke up. He had already seemed slightly out of it when he showed up outside of Draco's apartment, the last thing he needed was Harry waking up and not remembering what happened or how he got there while he was asleep. So he made himself a cup of tea and went back to reading his book in the chair by the window. He and Harry weren't necessarily on good terms, however, after their encounter in the manor when Draco refused to tell Bellatrix it was him, along with Harry speaking on behalf of his mother and himself, and saving his life during the battle there seemed to have been an unspoken agreement between the two of them to let bygones be bygones.

After a few hours the clock struck 6 am and Harry slowly began to stir a few moments afterwards. Draco sat his book down and went and got Harry a glass of water.

"Erh thanks. Ow blimey." Slowly lifting his shirt Harry realized he was covered in bruises but before he could grab his wand from a nearby table Draco was already muttering a charm that seemed to be easing his pain.

"Thank you..again. You have that one memorized?"

"Don't mention, I never got to properly thank you for speaking at mine and my mother's trial, I'd probably be in Azkaban with them if you hadn't, and my mother's sentence would probably be double what it is. As for the charm, well let's just say being an ex death eater who the ministry didn't lock in Azkaban doesn't bode well for me." Draco stood up and returned his book to the table next to Harry assuming it would be needed again.

"Mind explaining what the bloody hell happened to you last night? And why you ended up at my apartment? I would have assumed you to go to Weasley or Granger for help."

"Well," Harry slowly sat up grimacing at the pain still coming from his whole body, "I ran into some death eaters that haven't been caught yet, and let's just say they weren't too happy to see me."

"If they did this to you I can't imagine what they'd have done to me." Draco remarked in an attempt to lighten the air briefly.

Harry made a subtle attempt to laugh but all it resulted in was a few releases of air through his nose as he attempted to hide his wincing.

"As to why I came here and not to Ron or Hermione, you can call them by their first names by the way, me as well, they're both at the burrow with the rest of Ron's family, they're still going through a rough time. And as you saw I barely made it here before passing out. I was in no shape to aparate there's no way I would have made it there. With everyone I know at the ministry and the number of times I've been there recently I overheard someone mention your apartment and figured it was the best place to go."

"Let me get this right, you figured my apartment was the best place to go? Me? Draco malfoy, death eater, person who tormented you and your friends for years?"

"Ex-death eater, and Draco I was there for your trial I know how your father treated you, hell I witnessed how your father treated you," Draco shifted uncomfortably and averted his gaze from harry to the bookshelf, "you treated my friends and I the way you did because it was all you knew, it was the only way you saw your father talk about us or anyone that wasn't pureblood. You were just trying to live up to expectations. So yes, this was the best place for me to go. Also did you or did you not willingly bring me inside your apartment and heal all my wounds and stay up for several hours in case I woke up?" Draco once again shifted slightly in his chair not knowing what to say, "You didn't have to do any of that."

"You didn't have to speak at my trial, nor my mothers, or help save me from that death eater."

"You didn't have to lie to Bellatrix."

"Pardon?" Draco turned to face Harry.

"In the manor during the war. The snatchers that brought Hermione, Ron, and I to you. You knew it was me, even through the stinging jinx, but when she asked you, you didn't tell her. You could have been the one to turn me over to Voldemort but you didn't. It was clear to me then that you didn't want Voldemort to win. You were forced into the wrong side. You didn't have a choice."

"I had a choice, I just chose wrong."

"If you had chosen to leave, say you joined the DA in fifth year and fought with us in the ministry would you have been able to fight against your own father at the time? Say you refused the dark mark in sixth year, where would you have gone? Your father would never have let you go home. Voldemort would have tortured your mother, maybe even killed her. You didn't have a choice."

"Well, let's consider ourselves even then."

Silence fell for a few moments, neither boy knowing what to say. Harry took another sip of water emptying the cup and attempted to stand but barely making it an inch off the couch before letting out a painful gasp and sitting back down.

"Give me that, before I have to reheal your wounds," Draco extended an arm to take the empty glass, "you can stay here until you feel well enough to go. Hungry at all?"

"Thank you hopefully i'm not intruding, and yes a little, but you don't have to-"

"I'm making breakfast for myself, I might as well make it for you as well."

"You should get a pet."

"I should..what?" Draco sat the knife down and turned to face Harry.

"You should get a pet. That way you aren't holed up in this apartment alone all the time."

Draco turned back to the kitchen counter continuing to slice a loaf of bread and make other food preparations, "And just what kind of pet should I get?

"Well you don't have a yard, and you aren't particularly rambunctious so a dog is out of the question." Draco scoffed though not denying what Harry had said.

"You could get a cat?"

"Ah yes I could, but I do rather enjoy my plants staying on the windowsill instead of the floor." He let out a small laugh.

"That's a fair point you make. You could always get an owl."

"I don't send or receive much post these days, and I wouldn't want to have a pet who's confined to a cage or a one bedroom apartment the whole time they're in my care."

"You could always get a-" Harry's smile dropped for a second. He was going to say snake as a joke but decided it was best to keep that idea to himself thinking about the last snake Draco lived with. He didn't know how Draco would react to his suggestion.

"A what?" Draco interjected since Harry had stopped just before he finished his sentence.

"Oh uh," Harry thought quickly about an animal that wasn't too large for Draco's small apartment but also would work well with Draco. He didn't have much to work with though. Then he suddenly had a pet that seemed almost too fitting, "how about a bowtruckle?"

Draco stopped for a second to consider the idea. He actually liked the idea of having a pet for some company, and he must admit that Harry's suggestion of a bowtruckle was a decent suggestion.

"Maybe one day I just might consider the suggestion."

More silence fell as Draco cooked. It wasn't an awkward silence in Draco's mind. It was actually quite peaceful being in the company of someone who doesn't force him to talk. Pansy had always wanted him to talk, as did Blaise. He knows they meant well, but the more they tried to pry at him, the less he wanted to talk about. Someone else who is also content with shared silence was nice. Harry felt the same. In the Weasley house it was hardly ever silent before the war. However, with the war being over and after losing Fred the silence that fell over the Burrow seemed to strangle Harry every time he was there, as if the silence was drowning him. Of course he felt horrible about not being there, the Weasley's were his family, the only real home he'd ever known was theirs, but he just couldn't stand to be there now. Grimmauld Place felt the same, it was where Harry moved after the war ended. The silence there became deafening at times. He swore there were still times he could hear the muffled voices from the Order's meetings. Other times there was nothing. Just complete silence until it caused his ears to ring. Even though he had suggested it to Draco he hadn't yet taken his own advice of adopting a pet to keep him company. After Hedwig he didn't know if he had it in him to care for another animal.

Sleeping has become one of the most difficult tasks for Harry. After months of being on the run with hardly ever sleeping, it was hard for him to get back into the swing of things. Even eating felt like a hassle at times. The trio hardly had a regular eating schedule while on the run, they were lucky if they got a single meal in every day. His lack of sleeping left him plenty of hours to roam the quiet halls of Grimmauld Place, so Harry found himself wandering about London trying to focus his mind on anything he could. Harry was lost in thought when he realized his name was being called.

"Harry...Harry...HARRY!"

"What? Yes?"

"You alright? I've been calling your name for almost a minute with no response from you."

"Oh yes, I'm fine." Harry gave a weary smile for reassurance.

"Okay," Draco eyed him suspiciously but chose not to press the matter, "eat it while it's still hot." Draco handed him a plate with some toast and jam, along with some eggs and bacon.

"Tea?"

"Yes please."

Harry's eyes seemed to follow Draco into the kitchen, and as he reached up to grab a container of tea from the cabinet, Harry focused his eyes on Draco's left forearm where his sleeve fell revealing the outline of his dark mark. Harry was curious about it simply because he could see parts of it that didn't look like a normal dark mark. He didn't hold the mark against Draco, he knew it wasn't really his choice to take it, that was one of the many things that came to the surface during his trial. Suddenly his curiosity seemed to get the better of him and he couldn't remove his gaze from Draco's arm. However Draco's voice seemed to snap Harry out of his gaze.

"Here." Draco handed Harry a small cup of tea then resumed his place in the chair, retrieving his book and eating he continued to read. Harry's gaze fell right back to Draco's arm.

"It's still there." Harry's gaze shifted to Draco's face and he could feel the heat rising in his cheeks from embarrassment, however Draco's eyes never left his book.

"Sorry I didn't mean to-"

"Don't worry, you're not the only one who has wandering eyes. Once you have it you can't get rid of it even with magic. Can't cover it either."

"Cover it?"

Draco finally glanced up over the edge of his book to meet Harry's eyes and rested his book on the arm of the chair. Draco leaned forward slightly and hesitated to talk, realizing it would be easier to show him. He grabbed his sleeve and slowly lifted it up revealing a faded dark mark and two small flowers at the top and three at the bottom.

"You got a tattoo. A real muggle tattoo?"

"Yes, needle and all. I was hoping they would cover the mark, but I was wrong. The ink that was covering the mark just faded as if it were never there.

"The flowers aren't they-"

"Narcissus? Yes. My mother sacrificed many things for me and my safely, including her life. With her being in azkaban it seemed like the right thing to do."

"I'm sorry Draco. I tried to keep you both out. Your mother is the reason I was able to defeat Voldemort."

Draco didn't know what to say, he simply nodded. To Harry that was enough. The two boys sat in silence for several hours, Draco had given Harry a book to read while he read his own. Harry was thankful that Draco let him inside the door let alone going out of his way to make him feel welcome. To Him that was more than enough proof that he had changed since his days at Hogwarts, and he was nothing like his father. After several hours of sitting in the comfortable silence, Draco excused himself to shower and left Harry with his thoughts. When he heard the water turn off he hobbled his way to Draco's bedroom door and knocked.

"Draco?" No response.

"Draco?" again no response.

Harry turned the doorknob and cracked the door slightly.

"Draco?"

"Yes come in."

Harry opened the door and was met with a shirtless Draco digging through a dresser drawer, his gaze stopped at Draco's chest and the scars were scattered across in different directions. He knew what they were from but still asked anyways.

"Draco, are...are those from.." Harry found himself unable to continue with his words, he was overcome with guilt. The same guilt he felt at Fred's funeral. Except this time his guilt was staring him in the face.

Draco stopped and met Harry's gaze, he could see the guilt in his eyes. He knew Harry didn't know what that spell was, or what it did, and in all truth, had the roles been reversed Draco probably would have done the same thing.

"From sixth year? Yeah they are." his sentence got quieter as it ended.

"Draco i'm sorry, I didn't know what the spell was, I was angry, I had no clue what it would do. If I had, I'd have never used it. If I could go back I-"

"It's fine harry. I don't blame you, I was horrible, and I deserved it."

"You didn't deserve it, I was so blinded by being right I could have killed you."

"Yes well, it doesn't matter now I suppose."

As Draco turned around to grab a shirt from a different drawer Harry noticed the scars that trailed across his back. His spell only hit Draco in the chest these were from something else, or someone else.

"Draco your back, where did..what ...who did that to you?"

"Hmm? Oh the scars. my punishment for not completing my task in sixth year, a Diffindo spell. Snape told Voldemort he cast the spell before I could, the other death eaters told him I lowered my wand and was going to let Dumbledore go."

"How long did it last?"

"A few hours, several more for my mother to heal them."

Harry simply nodded. That seemed to be the end of the conversation because Harry didn't respond and Draco didn't continue. Harry had also forgotten why he went looking for Draco in the first place so Draco slipped his shirt on and the two made their way back to the couch. Harry at one end and Draco at the other. Within a matter of minutes Draco's exhaustion caught up with him and he was asleep while Harry found himself wandering around Draco's apartment. He knew Draco needed to sleep so he let him be. The pain in his torso had subsided greatly, it was still present but not nearly as bad as it was hours before, after entering the kitchen he noticed a small glass bottle sitting next to the box of tea Draco had used this morning.. The writing on the bottle was illegible but the scent was familiar, something he had been given in the infirmary at Hogwarts. It was some form of pain potion or healing potion he couldn't really remember which. Draco must have slipped it into Harry's tea. Harry couldn't seem to sleep so he continued reading one of the books Draco had sitting on the shelf, most of them were books on healing which explained the healing potion. His eyes drifted over to the blonde once again and Harry realized there was so much he didn't know about Draco. He wondered what it would have been like had he agreed to befriend him in their first year, or if the incident in the bathroom during sixth year had gone differently, had he offered to help him the way Dumbledore had rather than accused him, could he have helped him? Afterall it wasn't him who let Voldemort into his house, it was his father. Draco just had to abide by his father's decisions

"I was in constant worry of turning down a corridor and seeing him standing there, wand in hand just waiting for a reason to crucio me, sometimes not having one."

Harry turned and gave him a puzzled look, it was as if Draco knew what he was thinking.

"I got pretty good at Occlumency during 6th year, figured if I knew how to close my mind it would also come in handy if I knew how to read someone else's as well.

"After he was defeated and my parents, Pansy, and I got taken into custody by the ministry I let out a breath that I seemed to have been holding since fifth year. Yes I had known what was happening but it only got worse. After going back to the manor I realized how much I didn't want to be there. Everywhere I looked all I saw was death, sorrow, pain, and misery, some of which was my own. As long as I was there, there was a pit in my stomach that I just couldn't shake, when the ministry showed up and took us into custody I was content just being out of the manor, I didn't care what happened to me."

Harry went to open his mouth but Draco knew what he was about to say and spoke before he could.

"Don't you dare say sorry, you have said it far more times today than should be allowed." He let out a small smile and Harry's eyes drifted up to the set of silver eyes that no longer looked cold. Draco's eyes were different now. Before, Harry had always seen them with dark circles under them. So dark and sunken in that he looked sick sometimes, other times he looked as though he'd been punched, which if he had been didn't surprise Harry. Starting in sixth year his eyes were always dull, almost void. They were glazed over like there was nothing behind them, and when there was it was nothing more than fear. Now you could see that part of Draco that had gone missing during those last several years. You could see light in his eyes again and the dark circles were fading. The life was returning to someone who almost lost theirs to a second wizarding war.

"I never got the chance to apologize to you, or to your friends for treating you the way I did. As well as how my family treated you all when you got captured by snatchers."

Harry didn't know what to say to Draco, but suddenly there were words coming out of his mouth, he wasn't even thinking about what he was saying, he just started talking.

"I know how it feels," Harry shifted his gaze from the floor to Draco who seemed to do the same while he had been talking to Harry, "The pit in your stomach. I had it too while I was living with my aunt and uncle."

Harry thought about stopping himself from talking but he couldn't. He had spent so long not telling anyone about the things that went on in the Dursley's that suddenly in this moment almost every part of him was screaming to tell someone. So he did. He let the words and stories from the past 17 years flow effortlessly out of his mouth.

Draco was floored. The way Harry had been treated as a child. It horrified him. He couldn't imagine being the one to live it, yes he had horrible things happen to him, but the worst of it wasn't until he was 15, and even then he had his mother to depend on. Harry was a child, and he was going through it by himself, he was being treated like a slave. He tried to imagine how his mother would have reacted, everything he pictured ended in Narcissa using an unforgivable curse on Harry's aunt and uncle.

"You know I haven't told many people about that. Hermione and Ron yeah. But they're about it. It was all supposed to end in fourth year, or fifth. I was meant to go live with Sirius. Sirius Black, he was my godfather. He was innocent you know," Harry turned to look at Draco for a brief moment before continuing, "It wasn't him who gave my parents up to Voldemort, it was Pettigrew, but during fifth year, during the fight at the ministry he came to help and he, well he was killed by-"

"Bellatrix."

Harry turned to see Draco again, he could see the guilt on his face. He undoubtedly knew what had happened that day, but he had no reason to be guilty about it. He didn't kill Sirius.

"I'm sorry Harry."

Harry didn't know what to say, he ran out of words. Draco didn't have anything else to say either, so once again the two settled into the quiet silence that loomed around them. For both of them it was rare to be able to sit in the presence of someone else with just silence and no need for words. Most of the time they felt obligated to talk while with other people. For Draco it seemed that wherever he went he heard people whispering about him. For Harry, everyone wanted to talk to him. To him, saving the wizarding world was a curse. He couldn't go anywhere without being bombarded by a group of people. He was happy being in the presence of someone else that didn't make him talk, even Hermione and Ron always wanted to talk about how he was doing. Draco was happy to find that he wasn't the only one who felt the same disquiet feeling whenever he walked into the place that was meant to be his home. Several hours had passed and it was nearing sunset, Draco got up to fix something to eat while Harry continued to explore Draco's apartment.

Harry seemed to be drawn to the small room connected to Draco's bedroom. Inside he found several boxes shoved in a corner with some old school books sticking out of one. He turned his attention to the desk, sitting on top was a leather bound sketchbook with some old book pages sitting on top of it and some charcoal pieces. They had dust on them so they'd been sitting for a while. Harry couldn't stop himself from opening it. Inside he found old drawings and rough sketches dating back to fifth year. Some of trees and landscapes of the Hogwarts grounds, some empty classrooms that made Harry question how many times Draco sat alone in those empty classrooms. There were a couple of rough sketches of Pansy and Blaise on the train and then one complete drawing of each of them. There were several of Pansy and Blaise strewn through the sketchbook. Some of them in the common room, the bedrooms, on the grounds, in hogsmeade, and several other places. There were a few sketches of the Slytherin common room. There was one of the great hall during Christmas, the benches were almost barren. There was one more on the last page that made Harry smile. A badly drawn image of Draco, Pansy, and Blaise all on the common room couch, Draco on the left, Blaise on the right, and Pansy in the middle with her head in Draco's lap and her legs across Blaise's lap, with a note beside it that read _'Don't die on us Malfoy.'_ and underneath Pansy and Blaise signed their names. During his years at Hogwarts he may not have been the biggest fan of Draco and his two friends but even he had to admit Draco, Blaise, and Pansy held the same amount of loyalty and love to each other as friends that he, Ron, and Hermione did.

The drawings kept going for several more pages and then they stop. He hadn't pegged Draco for an artist, then again he didn't know enough about Draco to peg him for anything. Continuing on with his exploration of the room Harry's eyes wandered to the bookshelf. At the top there was a small chest engraved with something latin that Harry couldn't read. As much as he wanted to open the box he refrained from it. There were several other things on the shelf he just glimpsed at, a few books on occlumency, several on alchemy, one with a title he couldn't pronounce, however the one thing that truly caught Harry's eye was a set of black leatherbound notebooks. After grabbing the first one and skimming through the first few pages he realized they were a set of journals, the first one was from the fourth year, the second from fifth, the third from sixth, and the next from what would have been seventh, but the one from seventh year stops several pages in. He noticed that sixth year and seventh had far fewer entries and sixth years we're such longer, seventh's were much shorter.

"That's when the war started."

Harry dropped the book and quickly bent down to grab it.

"Sorry I didn't mean to...I didn't read them I swear."

Draco let out a soft chuckle under his breath, "Relax I don't mind," Draco stepped towards the shelf and pulled out one of the other books and skimmed through the pages, "I used them to keep track of my thoughts and everything that was happening around me."

"You envied us?"

"Hm?" Draco could feel the heat subtly rising in his cheeks.

"This page," Harry turned the book to show Draco, "I envy them, Potter, Granger, Weasley. Then you go on."

It was quiet for a moment. "Why?'

"Why what?" Draco asked.

"Why did you envy us?

Draco stepped towards the desk and sat down in the chair motioning towards the other chair in the room cueing Harry to sit down.

"I spent my whole childhood hearing your name. I thought by befriending you it would be one step closer to living up to what my father wanted me to be, given then I didn't know he wanted you dead. Then you not only rejected my friendship in first year, but you rejected me for the two people I had spent my whole life hearing were a disgrace to the wizarding world, can you imagine what that moment felt like?"

Harry was silent.

"My father would spend hours talking about how weas...Ron's family was disgracing the wizarding world, especially the ministry, but be that as it may, his family had so much going for them. No matter what they stood side by each other. When you were at your aunt and uncles Ron asked for help getting you out so Fred and George snuck out with him, stole a car, flew to Surrey, and broke you out. When Ginny got taken into the chamber of secrets Ron went after her. Percy worked for the ministry but he was still fighting side by side with all of his siblings and his parents. His father never expected him to be anything but himself, nor did his mother. There were no expectations to live up to, hell, Fred and George dropped out and opened a store. Everyone in his family respected each other for who they were. They were a family. I wanted to go to his funeral by the way. I always like the twins. They made me laugh, made me feel like a normal kid I thought about going to the funeral but decided it was better not to in the end.

"Erh...Hermione, even though she came from a muggle family, who I had always been told not to associate with because they weren't real wizards and witches, there wasn't a spell she couldn't do, or a subject she didn't know about. She was top of our class, with the highest marks in everything. She was always one step higher than I was. Can you imagine what it was like to come home to a father that expected nothing less than perfection and tell him you were beat out for top of your class by a muggle born student, the disappointment he had in me?"

Harry remained silent. Till now he had never thought about any of this from Draco's perspective, or what it was like for Draco.

"The three of you, as different as you were the best of friends. They didn't care about your name, they cared about you because you were their friend. You and Ron didn't care what family Hermione came from, pureblood or muggleborn, you cared about her and were always there for her. Neither you or Hermione cared that Ron's family was huge and lived in a small house, you both loved his family and loved spending time with each of them, because when it came to friends and family they gave it their all. You both loved having him around because even though he could be an idiot he always made the most of things. Me? The only friends I had until almost fifth year were either because of my family name or because we had to be friends because it was expected of us. Don't get me wrong I loved Pansy, and Blaise. They were the truest friends I had. They were there for me through many difficult things, and both tried to help me when they could. I haven't seen Pansy since before my father's trial, and Blaise… he ran off during the war, I don't blame him for it but I wouldn't even know where to begin in order to find him or Pansy. I had no choice but to be friends with Crabbe or Goyle, both of their parents were death eaters. Our parents made us be friends from childhood. Your friends pointed you in the right direction, and aside from Pansy and Blaise who were in the same position as I was doing whatever we could to stay alive, mine pointed me in the wrong ones most of the time. They encouraged me to be a dark wizard. The three of you were everything I couldn't be, everything I wasn't, everything I couldn't have. You had everyone telling you what to do, what was good or bad. You had people in every direction telling you what the right decision was, Ron, Hermione, the whole Weasley family, teachers, your godfather, older students, younger students, people from the ministry. All I had was my father and his beliefs to follow, then only good person I had that tried to point me in the right direction was my mother, and she could only do so much. Had I not done what Voldemort told me I could have been killed, worse my mother could have been killed. I didn't have people guiding me in the right direction like you did. Not to mention you all got away with breaking almost every school rule and getting no punishment, instead you got rewarded with house points. That's why."

As Draco had continued to talk he developed a sharpness to his tone. He looked up to see Harry, mouth agape with absolutely nothing to say. Draco cleared his throat and stood up, his face seemed to soften, "Dinner is done, it's on the stove. There's tea in the kettle, when you make yourself a cup of it there's a glass bottle on the counter, cups are in the cabinet on the left, put 4 drops of it into your tea, no more, no less. I need to run out and grab a few things, I won't be gone too long." And with that Draco was gone. Harry heard the door close and he made his way to the kitchen, just as Draco had said there was a plate on the stove with boiled potatoes and carrots, along with a few slices of roast and some gravy. Next to the plate was a kettle with what smelled like lavender and peppermint tea. He poured himself a cup of it and added the contents of the glass bottle, still not knowing what was inside, but whatever it was seemed to be taking away his pain and giving him back some strength. He made his way to the couch and attempted to eat, he found it rather difficult after what Draco had just told him. He never thought about what it was like for Draco, living up to a family name, only being pointed in the wrong direction. He didn't think about what it would be like to go through his Hogwarts years by himself, to have gone through the war by himself, let alone go through what Draco had gone through during the war by himself. He didn't think he could have, he couldn't. He had Ron and Hermione, he depended on them, they were there every step of the way when it came to Voldemort, but Draco was living with him and he had no one. Draco was right, Harry had people pointing from everywhere pointing him in the right direction from day one, telling him what decisions to make. He wasn't doing things by himself, he had so much help that Draco didn't. He didn't even have the option of asking for help. Now that Harry was thinking about it, it was no wonder Draco did what he did.

Suddenly Harry's thoughts were once again interrupted by the front door unlocking and opening, glancing at the clock, he realized it had been almost an hour, it was almost 11 o'clock. Draco stepped inside carrying a small paper bag into the kitchen, no words were spoken between the two. The grinding of a mortar and pestle had harry curious as to what Draco was doing. A few minutes later Draco handed Harry a small metal tin with a salve inside that smelled like basil, witch hazel, and something else Harry didn't recognize. He eyed Draco for a moment until he spoke.

"It's for bruises. No need to get suspicious it won't hurt you."

Harry had completely forgotten about the bruises under his shirt, after lifting his shirt he wondered how he could have forgotten about them. There were blues and purples and blacks staring up at him from all different directions. Carefully he applied the salve to the bruises and lowered his shirt. Draco had sat back down and was once again reading his book, Harry picked the one he had been reading back up and attempted to read his own. After almost an hour of silence Harry was still reading the same page of his book, he couldn't concentrate on the words he was reading. The only thing he could focus on were the thoughts running wild in his head. He looked up and out the window and saw that a corner store was still open, even at almost midnight. He sat his book down and told Draco he would be back in a minute. Draco simply nodded. Draco was conflicted, he didn't regret telling Harry all of the things he did, but he also didn't know what Harry would do now that he had all of this information. For all Draco knew he could go spill some of his darkest fears, secrets, and thoughts to Ron and Hermione, or the rest of his friends. Giving them all the perfect opportunity to black mail him, to laugh at him. Not that he didn't deserve it. He did it to them, why shouldn't they make him miserable? Draco was so lost in thought that when he heard the door open he almost dropped his book. Over the top of his book he watched Harry walk inside with a small paper bag.

He promptly walked over to Draco and stood in front of him until Draco acknowledged him. Draco glanced up but still Harry didn't move, so Draco closed his book and sat it on the table next to him giving Harry his undivided attention. But Harry didn't speak. Instead he reached into the bag and pulled out a chocolate bar and extended it in his hand to Draco. After a few seconds of pure confusion radiating from Draco's face, Harry spoke.

"Remus Lupin, our professor from third year, was one of my dad's best friends. He believed that chocolate could make anything better," Harry shifted and took a step back, "I know it doesn't make up for not accepting your friendship in first year, or for everything that happened all the years afterwards, but maybe it can be a start?"

Draco eyed the chocolate bar in his hand for a moment with a blank expression, but slowly a sly grin began to grow on his face that eventually turned into a regular smile as he extended his right arm forward and held it there "Draco."

Harry extended his left hand and took Draco's hand in a handshake. "Harry."

Harry proceeded back to the couch and pulled out the remaining chocolate bar from the bag and opened it. Harry glanced up to see Draco and met his eyes. The two boys shared a smile, raised their chocolate bars, and gave a curt nod and went back to their books. Maybe the two boys who everyone thought were polar opposites weren't so different after all.


End file.
